


A Bubble Made of Kevlar

by americanhoney913



Series: The Huntress and the Songbird [2]
Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)
Genre: And she's so soft for Dinah, Based on amazing fan art, F/F, Helena's secretly a photographer when she's not assassinating assholes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24864472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanhoney913/pseuds/americanhoney913
Summary: Crack the shutters open wideI wanna bathe you in the light of dayAnd just watch you as the raysTangle up around your face and bodyI could sit for hoursFinding new ways to be awed each minute'Cause the daylight seems to want youJust as much as I want you--- Crack the Shutters, Snow Patrol***“Photography is a way of feeling, of touching, of loving. What you have caught on film is captured forever… It remembers little things, long after you have forgotten everything.” — Aaron Siskind
Relationships: Helena Bertinelli/Dinah Lance
Series: The Huntress and the Songbird [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1720453
Comments: 5
Kudos: 53





	A Bubble Made of Kevlar

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the beautiful art by konako (link in end notes)

The sun shines through the window and makes Dinah’s hair look like a golden sunrise. Her locs lay messy and spread across her pillow, golden wires twined into them so that light glints off the windows and spreads little dots across the apartment wall. The brunette takes a big breath of the fresh morning breeze coming through the dirty windows, through the skylight they almost never close unless it’s winter. Dinah sighs as the rays of light shine across her face, spill across her bare shoulders, turning her skin to gold. The old radiator rattles and their apartment hums with electricity. Helena leans back against the rough brick meant to be their headboard and smiles. Helena runs her fingertips over Dinah’s bare shoulder, tracing a scar from one of the spiked baseball bats their mob boss of the week wielded. It's healing beautitful and will just add to the marks on Dinah's body Helena gets to kiss.

Helena gets out of bed as silently as she can, slipping into the open kitchen area to grab a cup of coffee. She slips on a pair of boxers, patterned with little crossbows, and an open red flannel on her way past the puddle of clothes on the floor. It’s too cold to be walking around their apartment naked, no matter how much Dinah likes seeing her like that first thing in the morning. She looks around for the sugar and finds it sitting next to her camera. She makes her cup and picks up the camera. 

Photography had been Helena’s escape before she met Dinah. She’s not good with people; never has been. She watched her parents die, traded Gotham grime for Sicilian countrysides. There, she grew up learning to be an assassin while moonlighting as a photographer, went to college in Italy, and returned to her home turf with an eye for scenery and a dislike for people. Now, however, she’s better with people. Dinah’s helped her grow in more ways than one. She’s also helped to temper Helena’s more volatile nature.

Dinah’s breath rustles some of the hair on her pillow and Helena smiles as she pulls up a stool and holds out her camera, coffee forgotten. The blonde moves in with a sleepy grunt to press her nose to fabric, fisting Helena’s pillow, huffing.

Dust motes float around in the light of the rising sun as Helena fiddles with her camera. She puts her eye to the viewfinder, fiddling with the zoom and focus. She can see the silver lines of Dinah’s scars: the smaller ones from a rough childhood to the larger ones from their work with the Birds. Where Helena's scars are white and ugly, she could trace Dinah's for hours. She's memorized them with her tongue, with her fingers, had traced them like constellations in the night sky.

“Lena?” Dinah’s raspy voice sends shivers down Helena’s spine. Her eyes flutter open and brown meets amber, a smile curling at the singer’s lips. “Mhhm, what time is it?”

“Early.” The lens clicks as Helena takes a picture. Dinah flushes as she stretches, arches her back and runs her hands through her hair as she does. The brunette takes another picture and Dinah freezes.

“What are you doing?” The singer sits up and settles against the bricks, pulling the sheets around herself. Helena knows she’s not trying to hide her modesty-- Dinah will walk around in a bra and underwear even when Harley or Renee are over but keeps it PG for Cass-- but Helena watches as the blonde tucks the blanket under her armpits. She can see the goosebumps on Dinah’s skin, can see her nipple piercings through the thin sheet.

“You just look so beautiful,” Helena responds instead of answering her girlfriend’s question. She fiddles with her camera, feels a blush erupt on her cheeks and watches Dinah zero in on openness of her flannel. She knows that she’s pale enough that when she blushes, it’s a full-body one. “Can I… Do you…?” She stumbles over her words, tongue feeling heavy in her mouth. She taps her finger against the shutter button.

Even though they’ve been together for a few years, sometimes Helena still feels awkward and tongue-tied around Dinah, especially when she’s not wearing any clothes. Dinah just gives her a soft smile in return, her eyes turning gold with the sun rising through the window. The brunette wiggles around on her stool, looking anywhere but at her beautiful goddess of a girlfriend lying in their bed, wrapped in a white sheet like a gift. 

Helena watches as Dinah scoots to the edge of the bed, still holding the cloth to her chest. She puts one hand on the brunette’s leg. Helena finally looks at her to find her smiling.

“Feeling trigger happy?”

She fiddles with the camera. When she can’t have a crossbow in her hand, when they haven’t gone onto any missions in a while, Helena gets fiddly and doesn’t really know what to do with herself. Dinah’s helped her calm down some-- can wring some orgasms out of her if she gets too squirmy-- but taking pictures helps her calm down.

“Can I photograph you?” Helena asks in a shaky voice. “You look… you just look so beautiful right now.”

Dinah smiles at her, moves her hand so that she can chuck the brunette’s chin with her finger. Her answer's in the soft way the blonde leans forward, cups her chin, and gives her the softest good morning kiss. It makes Helena’s heart flutters and heats bubbles in her stomach, a little sigh-on-moan slipping out before she can stop it. Dinah pushes her away with a little laugh, the brunette swaying a bit before she shakes her head and clutches her camera tighter.

“Let me just put my earrings on,” Dinah says as she slips out of bed, leaving the covers behind.

“Why?”

The blonde shrugs. “I feel naked without 'em.”

“You are naked, though.” Helena taps her camera against her chin. “Although some of your gold pieces would look really nice in the light.”

“Which ones?”

“Uh, the one that looks like a wing.” Dinah’s got a few small hoops that she never takes out, but she’s always changing up her first lobe piercing. Helena loves the cuffs she has, those different designs and shapes and the way they curve in a way that the brunette likes to follow with her mouth when there’s no metal in the way. Helena doesn't have her ears pierced. She probably did. Before. “The gold one.” Dinah nods and heads over to her chest stuffed full of jewelry and other miscellaneous things the songbird’s collected over the years.

Helena watches the way Dinah’s back muscles move as she breathes, as she shifts around, the curve of her ass as she bends over to look deeper. Her hair falls over one shoulder as she looks over the other, her eyes sparkling when she catches Helena staring. The brunette flushes and turns back to her camera, fiddling with the focus and zoom instead. Dinah chuckles, that raspy tone of it sending shivers up her spine, a low pulse to begin throbbing down below.

Dinah stands in front of the mirror for a little longer. Fluffing out her hair, fixing the cuff on her ear so it catches the light in just the right way. She even puts on a bit of nude lipstick, but nothing else. Dinah in her natural beauty makes the whole room shine in Helena’s opinion. The singer always looks like she comes from a higher power, but in her natural state she looks like she just stepped out of heaven’s gates and is always about to spread her wings.

Once the songstress stops primping, she turns back towards the bed. She climbs on and it takes all of Helena’s willpower not to scramble off her stool and follow Dinah down. She wants to fit her thumbs into the dimples at the base of the other woman’s spine, press her down and kiss along her back, take a bite of her muscular shoulder.

“Helena?”

The brunette shakes her head and smiles, soft, at Dinah. She looks down at her camera and then back up in time for the blonde to gather the blankets over her legs. She arranged them artfully to hide her cunt and even her long legs, like she’s wearing a cream colored skirt, but Helena can still see the V leading down to toned thighs and the abs Dinah’s flexing. 

“Sorry,” Helena mumbles. “You just… you just look beautiful.” She can't even remember how many time she's said that exact thing this morning, even though it's true.

“Thanks, babe.” Dinah finishes fiddling with the sheet and begins pulling her hair over her shoulder, exposing the lines of muscle and her specially-picked earrings. The light hits her body just right and Helena swallows as Dinah’s nipple piercings and earrings shine in the rising dawn light. “How do you want me?”

Helena’s mind goes blank as she begins listing in her head exactly how she wants Dinah right now. ‘ _On your back. Riding my face… or my fingers. Plowing me into the bed with your cock.’_ But she doesn’t say any of that. Instead she squeaks out, “This is fine.” Dinah’s raspy chuckle rolls across her body like a wave and she shudders.

She puts the viewfinder to her eye and counts down in her head. ‘ _3… 2… 1…_ ’ The camera clicks. ‘ _1… 2… 3…_ ’ Dinah smiles at her as she lets the camera hang around her neck. Helena slides off of the stool and creeps closer, taking a knee next to the bed. She touches the soft sheets that Dinah demanded when they moved in together. The brunette had been fine with any kind, but the blonde liked jersey sheets so they got those. Now, Helena rubs her fingers against them, sighing as Dinah touches the side of her face.

“How many do you need to take?” The singer’s voice sounds soft as it echoes through the apartment, which feels like a bubble made of Kevlar.

“One more,” Helena rasps in response, her throat bobs, as Dinah chucks her under the chin before she leans back. This time, instead of putting one hand in her lap and the other resting on her cheek, she leans back so that her back arches, her heavy breasts bobbing with each breath. “Hold still.”

“Only for you,” Dinah purrs. As soon as the camera clicks, as soon as Helena takes another picture, Dinah’s pulling it over the brunette’s head and laying it on the nightstand. The blonde pulls Helena with her as she falls back into bed, the sheets blossoming as she spreads her legs so that Helena can slot her hips between them. “Now that we’ve gotten _that_ out of the way…” She trails off as she brushes her fingers up and down the open front of her flannel shirt, against pale skin, walking those fingers up Helena’s abs like they’re stepping stones, and fanning out against her heartbeat; her smirk makes the brunette shudder in a way that only Dinah can do.

Helena’s eyes darken at that smirk, heat bubbling up in her blood at the thought. She looks up at Dinah’s lips, ruby red but sticky with nude gloss and inviting in the dawn light. Her gaze flickers back up to hypnotizing amber orbs before dropping again. Dinah’s thumb rubs tiny circles at the top of the V leading down to Helena’s cunt, which clenches at just the thought of those fingers.

The first kiss is soft. 

A simple peck. Just like their first from so long ago.

Pulling back slightly, barely any space between them, Helena inhales the moment, eyes closed as she unconsciously locks it away in her memory. 

She never wants to forget this.

Then, without warning, Dinah leans up and dives back in.

Helena moans when a hot insistent mouth meets her own. Their lips meld together, teeth nipping and tongues soothing. She splays her fingers across Dinah’s back, her other hand coming up to grip the back of her head, tangling in her hair. Helena uses the strength in her abs to do a single crunch so she’s sitting up with Dinah in her lap. The blonde chuckles, breaking off into a groan as she digs her fingers into blonde locs, holding her in place. Again and again, their mouths meet, sucking and tasting, never relenting. 

Helena feels the heat begin to build deep in her gut, feels herself getting wet. Her belly swoops and an even deeper inferno sets ablaze inside. Hands cup her face, callused hands guiding her closer still. Dinah’s hands are callused in ways different than Helena’s, from gripping a mic and a baseball bat and a gun. The tip of a nose nuzzled the apple of Helena’s cheek, easier to reach when the brunette’s sitting up. She gasps as Dinah’s mouth disappears, quickly reappearing along her jaw. She tilts her head, providing even more access to the blonde’s searching mouth. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Dinah whispers against her ear. She kisses the shell, tongue darting out to trace the curve. She bites tenderly on her earlobe. “If I could take pictures like you, I’d never put the camera down.”

“Di.” Helena flexes her fingers in Dinah’s hair. She pulls her back in for a deep kiss. 

Dinah’s hands fall from her face. Rough palms find purchase on her hips. Fingers fumbled along the waist of her boxes. Searching. Wanting.

Fire burning inside, needing more, always needing more, Helena uses her strength to maneuver Dinah around so that the blonde’s the one sprawled out on her back. Helena tangles their fingers together and settles them on either side of the pillows. Dinah looks up at her, trust shining through. Her smirk turns into a soft smile.

“I love you.” Dinah’s voice echoes through the room, ballooning Helena’s heart until it’s fit to bursting, and the brunette leans down to nuzzle her nose against the soft skin of Dinah’s neck. “Love you.” Helena’s lips temple against Dinah’s skin. "You."

God, the blonde’s like her lifeline and she’s so glad that the camera can capture those vulnerable just-for-us moments. 

“I love you, too.” Dinah arches her neck when Helena leans down.

The moment their lips meet, it’s like lightning hitting the ground, defusing through the air. The electricity is palpable.

Passion takes over and Helena lets go of her girlfriend’s hands. She cups Dinah’s face, biting her lip until she whimpers, letting the brunette’s tongue in. They kiss and Helena moans because she can never get enough of the other woman.

Dinah’s hands slide around Huntress’ waist, pushing the open flannel off of her shoulders, nails scratching her skin until goosebumps erupt on creamy pale skin. Dinah’s naked as the day she was born and Helena’s hands roam her stomach, appreciating the muscles that twitch beneath her ministrations. She wanted to feel everything. Touch every inch of the body against her. Worship her for the rest of time. Capture this moment in a photo so they can't escape. So they're frozen in time. Just the two of them.

With a growl, Helena pushes harder on Dinah’s lips, an unusual dominance taking over her. She might love to give up control, but the fact that she’s captured Dinah, both in a picture forever and below her makes that fire roar in her veins.

Helena’s lips slide down Dinah’s skin, tasting the coconut and shea butter body wash she uses, inhaling the scent of pure Dinah underneath. She allows herself the small detour to suck on Dinah’s nipple, trapping the bar between her teeth and using that to tease and suck and make the blonde squirm beneath her. One of her thighs knocks against Helena’s cunt, putting the tiniest bit of pressure, and the brunette whines into her skin as she lets go of her nipple piercing. She moves her hips away so that she can focus on Dinah. The woman deserves a reward for putting up with her trigger happy fingers.

She settles for charting the constellations of beauty marks and freckles and scars across Dinah’s chest with frenzied lips, wanting as much of her in her mouth as possible. She can get lost just tasting the blonde’s skin, murmuring words of reverence and veneration, tattooing promises in heated breaths.

“So damn beautiful,” Helena mutters against the soft muscular skin of Dinah’s stomach. She repeats the words until she gets to the inside of her thigh. There’s a little bit of slick on her thigh and Helena sucks on it until she leaves a mark. 

“Lena,” Dinah whines as one hand fidgets, flails.

Helena catches it, their fingers locking as her mouth caressed soft pliant flesh. Dinah’s other hand tangles in Helena’s short hair, tugging gently until the brunette mumbles a question against her skin. “What do you want, Di?”

“You.”

The brunette squeezes her hand. Kissing her way down one leg, Helena lovingly bites at her thigh, thick and toned and muscular, more she moves back up to brush a kiss against the softest skin at the inside of her thigh. “You have me.”

“Please.” Dinah kicks out with one foot, dislodging the bunched-up blanket. Helena hears as it fall to the floor with a muffled thump. “I need…” Helena knows exactly what Dinah needs because she needs the exact same thing. Needs more. Needs Dinah.

Arms wrap around Dinah’s waist and Helena lets her tongue lick a stripe up Dinah’s cunt. With a whine, the blonde clings to her hair, legs moving to rest on her shoulders. Helena feels safe in the cradle of Dinah’s thighs, the soft skin pressing into her ears. If being cradled like this was the last moment she spent on earth, her final breath would have been spent in the only place she ever wanted to be. The only other place she’d ever want to be is wrapped around Dinah, lips pressed to her neck, curled around her. Just the two of them in love.

Helena wants to devour Dinah, and devour her she will. If the fires were to consume her, the brunette wants the last taste on her tongue to be Dinah’s exhalations, the last sound she hears her ragged whispers.

Her fingers skate over dark skin and Helena thinks this is how it feels to touch the sun.

Dinah bucks against her touch, against her tongue, and Helena hasn’t thought about a higher power in years but, if there is one, she thinks this is how it feels to be blessed by the divine.

The songstress’s moans come sharp and broken, and her lips form around a soundless scream when Helena urges her thighs further apart and lays flat, broad licks at her wet center. One hand tangles in Helena’s cropped hair, while the other has their jersey sheets in a white-knuckled grip. Her hips move almost thoughtlessly, her thighs clamping around Helena’s head, and there’s no place the brunette would rather be than here, worshipping this goddess as she cries Helena’s name.

She feels the world split open when Dinah comes against her mouth, and she greedily drinks her in as if a parched wanderer.

“Fuck,” Dinah says, breathless. Helena looks up to see the other woman bathed in sunbeams. Dust motes float around her head like a halo, that one cuff in her ear casting fractiles of light against the walls. Helena’s fingers twitch, urging her to get up and grab her camera to capture Dinah post-orgasm, but she’s comfortable where she is, watching Dinah throw one arm over her eyes. “Jesus.” 

She rests her forehead on Dinah’s hip, feeling the world settle and calm down around her. The twitchiness settles as she licks Dinah’s thigh as some kind of goodbye to the bruise she sucked into dark skin. The hurricane in her mind gives way to light and she lets out one last shuddering breath before she pushes up to settle her face between Dinah’s breasts. The blonde’s fingers thread through Helena’s hair, and she hums happily at the sensation.

“What was that?” Dinah asks, after countless seconds, and her voice is thick and husky in a way that sends Helena’s heart racing again. Helena knows she’s not really looking for an answer, sees the soft, loving smirk on her face. She cards her fingers through the brunette’s hair, her rings catching for a moment on a fly-away before moving on.

Helena turns so that her cheek presses against Dinah’s breast, her gaze meeting Dinah’s across an expanse of scarred skin. “I can’t help myself. You just look like a goddess in the sunlight.” She flushes at the words spilling out of her mouth-- super cheesy, Cass would say-- but she can’t stop. She’s not orgasm-drunk, but Dinah’s post-orgasm smile sometimes gives her the same high. “I couldn’t help but worship you.” It’s completely out of character for someone raised by assassins with only a camera as a creative outlet, but Dinah’s looking at her with so much love in her eyes that it gives her just as much pleasure.

A perfect eyebrow raises in challenge, but Dinah’s smile is gentle. “I see.”

Helena grins, basks in the calm Dinah brings, in her quiet care and affection.

The world can wait.

Helena closes her eyes, as if they’re the shutters of a camera. Imprinting this moment into her memory like the photos of Dinah sitting nude in their apartment, that soft smile on her face. 

For now, Dinah is here, in this picture-perfect moment, with her.

And that’s all that matters.

**Author's Note:**

> Fanart: https://konako.tumblr.com/post/620941034084581376
> 
> I hope y'all enjoyed the fic. Please also give konako some love because they're an amazing artist!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought. I just wanted to do a soft Dinah/Helena morning... but with photography mixed in.


End file.
